


Moonlight Madness

by SoraMJigen



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Anxiety, Confidence, Dancing, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Iron Man 2, Reader-Insert, Romance, Secret Crush, Stark Tower, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraMJigen/pseuds/SoraMJigen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. Tony x Reader. You're invited to a gala at Stark Tower, but your anxiety gets the best of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Readers! Whenever you see this : (___) feel free to imagine your name there and let the awesomeness commence. Enjoy and thanks for reading :D

Tony Stark was the sort of man who knew how to dazzle women and make them feel as though they were fallen stars from the Heavens. It had been a while since the man had endured any sort of relationship and there was no rumor of anyone romantic in his life. Pepper Potts had left him for her own reasons, but what they were he would never say nor disclose to any press. He seemed to be heartbroken from it, resulting in an onslaught of parties and slowly slipping into his alcoholism. The man knew how to hide his heartbreak behind that grin and booze, but he brushed it off and carried himself as a party animal who knew how to liven up the room. 

Tonight was yet another party in Stark Tower, this one more professional than the last. Tonight was a gala for the Make a Wish Foundation in which Mr. Stark would be making a generous donation. Mr. Stark had a fondness for children and wouldn’t hesitate to give them a hug or an autograph. He was often kind towards them and would never shy or turn away from them. It wasn’t too long ago that he actually helped a group of people create prosthetic limbs for children. He had presented the created limbs to the children who so desperately needed them to function. Each child was awed not only by the beginning of their new life with their new limbs, but also the fact that Iron Man himself was there to deliver it to them. 

It was something you believed was sweet of Mr. Stark and how he was unlike other businessmen who did this sort of work for the publicity. While Mr. Stark was all about show, there were just some things he did for the better of the world and his own personal interest. Where children fell, you believed, was into both categories. After all, they did hold the keys to the future. 

You were invited to this gala by your boss because he wanted his best business associates there and you were no exception. You were one of the best and you liked to hold yourself to that title. But outside of work, you really didn’t have much of a life. You would crawl home and slip into your warm, comfortable clothes while eating leftovers from the night prior and catch up on your favorite program. It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to have fun, it was more so the notion that you preferred your own company as opposed to anyone else’s. You were comfortable in your solitude and knew how to have fun by yourself. 

Your luck with romance was as slim as a Slim Jam and it was not something to be snapped into. You were like everyone else; you had the great loves, the train wrecks, the one night stands. They were all learning lessons in life which led you to believe that your possible soul mate existed somewhere. But you weren’t too worried about finding him or her and for now, you allowed life to carry you on the coattails of being a successful professional.

You bought a dress from Armani because you knew you could afford it and it made you look so fine. It was elegant but a little saucy, smart but sexy – all of the qualities that embodied you and allowed the anxiety of being around the public slowly slither away. The comfort of knowing your co-workers and boss would be there eased you somewhat, but you could hear your anxiety nagging in the back of your head. It growled like a tiger, its claws raking at farthest point in your mind. You knew a drink would relax you, but you weren’t one for alcohol and so you simply requested a cola to calm your nerves.

Sipping the beverage, your eyes gazed around the room; a view of New York in all its glowing glory was just beyond clear windows hidden behind the throngs of nicely clad masses. A buffet from some well known classy restaurant was set up in the distance, but you had just finished eating a while ago. A well stocked bar seemed to stretch across the room, furthering the owner of Stark Tower’s love of the drink. Everything in the room seemed to be illuminated as though it was all made of gold, twinkling in your eyes as though you had stumbled upon a dragon’s treasure trove. Your heels clicked as you aimlessly wandered through the crowd, taking in every detail while classic music played in the background. Mozart, you believed it was. The piece was coming to a close as the lights seemed to dim and from some hidden entry way a spotlight appeared. You smirked softly, oh what a show man Mr. Stark was and you knew it without a doubt.

Some grand music played as though the room was about to be graced with the presence of a king. You couldn’t make out the melody as you watched Mr. Stark appear from a pair of ornately detailed doors. The doors themselves seemed to open for him, followed by the chairman of the Make a Wish Foundation, a few security guards, and a large check. All eyes watched the grinning Tony Stark in his ebony suit with a crush crimson tie that glittered with golden accents. Beneath it all, you swore the spotlight slowly eliminated the blue glow of his iconic arc reactor. The roar of the applause reverberated throughout the room, causing any music to fall silent to the crowd’s praise. You applauded, holding your drink as best as you could. Cameras flashed before Mr. Stark and the smiling chairman who now applauded him. Both men sucked up the spotlight and camera flashes as though their reputations depended on it. 

“Good evening, Make a Wish Foundation. Are you having a good time?”

Their rejoice doubled as Tony Stark smiled and nodded. It was always good to have reassurance of people having a good time at his tower. They were successful professionals after all and they only deserved the best. They deserved the best food, treatment, and party and Mr. Stark was not one to disappoint. He would hope not to disappoint in the least because he rather enjoyed doing business with the Make a Wish Foundation, having frequented their offices many times before to see children smile at his presence. They needed some joy in their life and he would help them in any way possible. 

Tony adored children for the reason that they were new in this world and that in no way, would he want them to suffer. He wished for them to have a better childhood than what he had endured with his parents’ demise and his father’s recklessly abusive parenting. No one had known of his past and it was better that he kept it that way to refrain from any gossiping tabloids and shifted views of people he often dealt with. Eyeing the room through his tinted glasses, he was met with stern press people and thousands of business personas. Each one was like him, wanting to have a good time but wanting to get down to business. 

Then there was you in the visible distance, holding a coke. You were possibly the only one in the room holding a virgin drink and his eyes flashed with a spark of elation. Your eyes met with his briefly before returning to your beverage as he started to thank everyone for coming out to his tower and partying with him. He then announced that he would be donating one million dollars to the Make a Wish Foundation and you smiled from ear to ear. One million was a grand number and you’ve seen it before in your business days. Numbers no longer shocked you. Instead, they showed you that a person could be determined by their generosity. Now one million was a common number often given by those who were extremely wealthy and willing to impart some of their riches. But one million was nothing when given from Tony Stark because he had donated more than that before to the Make a Wish Foundation. This was a mere kick in the bucket and you smirked at this fact. 

Watching him give the check to the chairman, the crowd applauded once more, camera flashes going off like mini explosives. There were no cameras most of the time when he visited the foundation. Sometimes he would bring his friends with him and the children would welcome them with open arms. They would never turn away any of the Avengers or Tony and were always delighted to see that they had company. You knew Tony was a good man and that many at the office had adored him for his surprise visits and his treatment of the patients. 

The cameras’ flashes ended as Tony descended into the crowd, passing the press who urged him for a story. He brushed them off like fleas off of a dog and worked his way to the bar to socialize with your boss and a few higher ups over a glass of scotch. Ah the typical rich man’s drink, not your poison and once more you drank your coke. 

Your anxiety roared in your head as once more you tried to ignore it. Met with your ignorance it roared inhumanely and loudly in your head, making you jittery and needing to get out. All this time your attention was focused on Mr. Stark and how coolly he handled the crowd, making them eat from his palms like a beast tamer. You were no tamer after all these years and hurriedly slipping through the masses, you found yourself staring at New York’s dazzling city lights. There weren’t many people by the window, which became your comfort spot. The anxiety still rumbled and snarled, filling your head with thousands of ideas, but all of them building up the notion that you should leave. If you boss asked why you would just tell him you weren’t feeling so well and that you would see him at the airport tomorrow morning to return home. You would go to your hotel room, where no one was, and curl up beneath the sheets and eat that bag of macadamia nuts from the mini bar. You could afford them and maybe, while you were at it, catch up on the latest “Game of Thrones.”

Yes that seemed like a splendid idea. Yes, maybe the beast in your head was right and maybe it would be best to do just that. It would be a pain to find your boss, but you could manage. Or you could even text him and save yourself the growing anxiety of going into the crowd and locating him. Placing your drink down on a table, you began to fish through your purse and quietly cursed to yourself. Your fingers fumbled, trying to find the device in such a hurry that you didn’t even notice a rather nicely clad gentleman appear beside you.

“Well, well, I didn’t know that one person could outshine New York.”

Looking over, you froze and from your sudden, immersed shock your anxiety increased tenfold. Your palms began to sweat as you swallowed hard at the sight of Ton Stark before you. Doused in the city lights of New York, your fingers gripped a few tissues in your purse. Your mind mentally cursed you for not leaving sooner and for not discovering your phone. Your fingernails dug deeply into your palm as a miniature punishment for your foolish actions. Swallowing hard, you watched Tony unable to say anything. Your mouth was clamped shut like an oyster hiding a pearl, a rigid line across your face as Tony eyed you like an artist taking note of a masterpiece. Cocking an eyebrow, he raised his glasses, revealing his chocolate orbs. 

“Even without my glasses you’re still far more radiant than the city.”

A sudden splash of warmth grew on your cheeks as you quickly turned your head away to hide your blush. Your fruitless effort was pointless as you remembered your hair was tucked neatly into a bun and dazzled with diamonds. The line across your face melted into what appeared to be a gentle smile which made Tony smirk. He knew the effect he head on others and wasn’t afraid to use it. 

“So, what’s your name? Or should I call you Miss Universe?”

“Well,” you started, your voice shaking like a leaf.

“Last I checked, this isn’t a competition. My name is (____).”

“(____). I’ve always liked that name. What do you say we blow this joint, (___)?”

He smirked at you softly and for a moment, your heart seemed to burst loudly against your chest as though exploding from secret TNT. Your swore your felt your cheeks and body redden, as though he struck a nerve with his voice and you could do nothing but absorb it all. His words were echoing in your ears, reverberating throughout the rest of you. His voice rattling your bones slightly, making you swallow hard.

Offering you his arm, you took it hesitantly as though you had just fallen asleep and were testing the waters to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. At the feel of his suit beneath your fingers your heart silenced; this was no dream. But why you, of all women you wondered. Sasha from the accounting department was far more attractive with her breasts nearly spilling out of her Jessica Rabbit dress. Even Moira the receptionist was much more beautiful with her dark, luscious skin lying beneath her black locks. There was even Angelique with her fair Indian skin and her exotic, gorgeous sari. Why he had chosen you out of all the women here tonight was a mystery in itself which seemed to grow deeper as he quietly led you out of the room. 

Leading you into the recesses of Stark Tower, the halls were illuminated but lonely. To break the silence, he started to talk about random topics. The foundation, complimenting you every so often, the Avengers, anything that came to his mind. You would often chime in with topics of your own and he would linger on them the most, wanting to know you more as a person. Why though, you were uncertain.

You two seemed to talk for hours on end until he brought you to a private moonlit bar far away from the gala. Not even the booming dance music could be heard from this part of the tower as you looked around the room. A personal bar was the main feature of the room next to yet another skyline of New York. The man really did love his booze, but you did not judge him for it. You believed that he was a hard working man that loved to relax after a long day of meetings and creating new technology. 

He allowed you to explore the room, fed by the curiosity in your brain as well as your rearing anxiety. Swallowing hard, you felt your bones grow jittery. Walking became a need to quell your quivering bones that urged you to run back to your hotel room. Not in fear, but to relieve the beastly anxiety in your head now roaring like a storm. Your heels clicked rapidly on the floor, not running but walking rather hurriedly as though someone was following you. Tony kept his distance, eyes never leaving you. He had seen this behavior before, like a bird trying to escape its cage. Raising an eyebrow it slowly made sense to him as he moved to the bar to give you room. Stopping at the window to stare at the city, you attempted to take your mind off the anxiety. It still roared, loud and long with no intent of stopping as your heart seemed to echo throughout the room. You quietly prayed Tony wouldn’t think of you wrongly or hear your beating heart as you grit your teeth in frustration at your anxiety. 

“Why have you brought me here?”

You asked rather abruptly, your fingers trembling nervously. Watching your fingers and frame, Tony spoke as calmly as he could. 

“Because I know anxiety is about as fun as a pile of fire ants.”

Every bone seemed to stop shaking, every roar from your nerve inducing beast was silenced, and your eyes widened as though he had discovered your darkest secret. Slowly turning on your heel, you noticed that he had moved to the bar and poured himself a drink. He watched your widened eyes through his shot glass, downing the drink in one gulp. It wasn’t enough to do anything but take away that dryness in his mouth. Tension roamed throughout the room between you two, waiting for someone to speak. 

“You know….what this is?”

“Yeah.”

“H-how?”

Your voice was as small as a mouse as he smiled softly in an attempt to alleviate the anxiety. Transparent anvils rested on shoulders and weighed your body down. Your heart shrank, beating gently but sharply. Its swift punches hitting you in the chest and making you breathe less and less. Your eyes never left Tony as he crept from the bar, not wanting to cause any more anxiety for you. He kept his distance, concern stirring with sternness in his eyes. 

“You don’t think the attack on New York shook me up a bit? Think about it. Me, flying a nuke into space, and not knowing if I’d make it out alive or not. Come on, you don’t think that shakes anyone up?”

The logic pieced together rather quickly in your shaken state. It made sense. Who wouldn’t be scared of staring death in the face and obtaining anxiety as a reward for saving the Earth? It was easily understandable and knowing that you shared such a problem with Mr. Stark made you relax. You were not alone and with that comfort, you smiled some. The roaring beast gradually retreating into your head still screaming to be seen. Invisible anvils breaking from your shoulders as they rose like mountains, quieting the rapid beat of your heart.

“No…no I can understand that, then. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving us.”

Tony’s firmness and concern gave way, cured by the smile on your face. He had done well by opening up and showing that he was not the only one with his particular baggage. He wasn’t alone in his war with anxiety and to know others had it not only gave him reassurance, but made him see that anyone could have it; even as someone as successful as you. Smirking softly, he watched as your body seemed to straighten out like a blouse being ironed. You had shined so brightly before in the gala room, even with tones of anxiety dancing about your frame. But now, you just seemed to shimmer so much better; New York falling in defeat to your confident glow. It was admiring and alluring, causing his smirk to slip into a rather seductive smile.

But there was a gala (or a fancy party as Steve called it) tonight. Clearly, some dancing should be in order. Not grinding and grooving to that Lady Gaga or whatever the Hell her name was. No, no. You were a classy woman and you were entitled to some classy music with some excellent moves. 

“Jarvis, drop my needle.”

You watched Tony as he approached you, his confidence radiating like glow off of uranium. In the room, your eyes traced over a record player whose needle dropped. You hadn’t noticed that before due to your sudden anxiety attack as your attention was suddenly drawn to Tony. He had placed his hand just beneath your shoulder blade and the other now held your hand as though it were made of glass. Blushing, you locked eyes with him, rather confused at the situation. 

“Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?" 

He coyly asked and you giggled softly.

“Who are you now? Batman?”

“Nah, too moody. I’m more of a fun guy.”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Tony.”

“Tony? Isn’t that unprofe-“

“Let’s lose the professionalism. Shall we dance?”

“I…I don’t know how.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go gentle.”

The record played a melody you swore you heard many times before in romantic movies. The first note slid into the atmosphere with ease, as Tony slid his foot forward and you obeyed, pressing yours to the floor behind you. The moonlight soaked the bar room as he waltzed with you. He held your hand tightly as though he needed it and never missed a beat to the tempo, somehow able to think through the few scotches he had. You followed along like his second shadow, keeping your posture as firm as possible. 

Eyes locked with his, you saw them shimmering in the glow of night. Those chocolate orbs now softened by the alcohol and the atmosphere, dilated orbs from the intoxication that you somehow now found sexy. You couldn’t understand why, your brain now failing at grasping any means of logic as you tried to cling to reality. You drank nothing, you weren’t a drinker and you had taken no drugs at any point in the evening. It was impossible for anyone to slip you a roofie and why would they at such an adult affair. But it couldn’t explain the situation at hand that made you question its every waking minute. It was almost dream like, a fantasy that any woman in the world would kill for. Dancing to some indiscernible tune in the moonlight with a man who had the world eating from his palms in an isolated room. It was even more intimate and comforting to know that you and this multi-million dollar man had shared something dark and deep. The moon illuminated the room with its silvery ethereal glow, outlining the bar and stretching your shadows across the floor. They seemed to have a mind of their own, but managed to keep in perfect time to the moves. 

The talk of money and transfers and business was far gone from your ears, not even ringing in your skull. You now only focused on the man breathing before you, the record’s song, and the sound of your heart beating in your hands. Had he heard it? You hoped not and yet you watched his lips tip slyly, as though he just read your thoughts. Turning red, you felt him seal the space between you two. Your dress was gathered close to your frame, like a child clinging to their mother in fear of getting lost. Slowly dipping you, your eyes never left his’. His hand rested at the arch of your back and you felt your spine turn to jelly. It wobbled and melted beneath your flesh as you swallowed hard, your heartbeat pounding in your head. He smirked softly as though he heard that frantic pounding ringing in your head.

“You’re not bad, (___).”

“Well….you aren’t either, Tony.”

Any shred of leftover anxiety was dragged into the darkness of your mind by some unforeseeable force. Its roar rang out in your head but it didn’t matter now. What rested between you two was a tension that could only be defined in love stories throughout the ages. Yet there was no love between you both, or was there? You couldn’t read Tony’s intent and that only made your heart accelerate within your ribcage, throbbing against your chest like a prisoner in dire need of escape. But you didn’t want to escape. No, no, you wanted to stay here in this moment with no one to bother you. You did not love Tony and yet, you held a strong sense of something indiscernibly wonderful. It was warm like a freshly baked cinnamon roll and made your heart hunger for it. No, definitely not lust, that seemed too strong to define this unshakable emotion that now tore through you, culminating with all the times you had seen Tony before. How he played with the children in the ward, how he greeted everyone like they were his own family, and how he held you in the solitude of a personal bar room that no one dared venture to. It was something you had felt millions of times before and wait, what was it called? It was that satisfying rush of whenever they did something endearing to you or something that made you smile. 

 

Crush.

 

The word formed faster in your mind than a colony of ants and it made sense. From crush came adoration and admiration which was what you felt for the man before you. You admired him. That realization made your shoulders relax and a shy smile stretch on your face. The blush was lingering, but you didn’t care. 

You swore Tony’s eyes were getting closer to yours and your breath hitched. Those eyes closed and for the reason you understood why. Your cheeks were burning like a Sun and as red as roses, the warmth making your head swim. Swallowing hard, it had been a while since you’ve done this. Hoping you still had the moves, you gradually leaned up, the suspense draining you like a mosquito. You could feel his breath so close to your lips, as your heart began to race. He was so close, only mere centimeters away from your -

“Mr. Stark, the press would like to interview you about this evening’s gala. They refuse to take ‘no’ for an answer. ”

The moment snapped and reality was thrust upon you and Tony. Sighing in defeat, you saw the man’s shoulders slump as he raised you onto your heels once more. Jarvis had to be a mood killer. It was common for him to be the mood killer as he had managed to take up this role many times in the past. Tony often hated when Jarvis decided to play this part and sometimes punished him for it. Though he supposed it was only Jarvis looking out for him and he couldn’t blame him. The program had practically raised him his entire life. He was the stand in father that Tony always adored. 

“Tell them I’ll be back at the gala in a few moments.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Your heart ached for what you knew would happen between yourself and Mr. Stark. Eyes watching him, you observed he didn’t release your hand until he placed a gentle kiss on the back. A spark went through your heart and made your cheeks stay as red as cherries. Smiling, he looked up once more to gaze at your radiance. 

“It was great to meet you, (___). Even more of a pleasure to dance with you.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” confidence was now evident in your tone as Tony smirked. Handing you a business card with his number on it, you looked up from the card.

“If you’re ever in town, give me a buzz. We’ll do lunch.”

“I’d love that, Tony.”

With that, you both returned to the gala. He distracted the press, allowing you to slide in and once more merge with the crowd. You had seen each other throughout the rest of the night, passing glances and smiles. Every so often you would interact, but nothing to raise eyebrows or prompt questions. Returning to your hotel after the party, you smiled at the night you had just experienced with Tony Stark and the bouquet of pink roses on your temporary bureau.


End file.
